The Small Miracle Wrought by 10 Minutes in the Morning

It was a somewhat eccentric policy introduced by the principal of Midorigaoka Junior High School in March of that year: 'For the 10 minutes before the morning homeroom, teachers are free to use their discretion for activities.'
While confusion spread among the teachers, I saw this as an opportunity. In my homeroom, Class 1-B, I introduced 'morning reading' for the first semester. A classroom where only the sound of pages turning echoed in the silence. It was, in its own way, a beautiful and peaceful scene.

However, as the autumn breeze began to blow and the ginkgo trees in the schoolyard turned color, I suddenly thought that after 'stillness,' perhaps there should be 'movement.'

“Everyone, starting tomorrow, we aren't doing books; we're doing this.” What I held up was a bundle of cards in a small box. It was 'Goshiki Hyakunin Isshu' (Five-Color One Hundred Poets).

The classroom buzzed. “Hyakunin Isshu? Ugh, that sounds like studying.” “I don't understand classical literature.” I grinned at the expected reaction. “It’s not just any Hyakunin Isshu. This is a sport. And what’s more, it’s decided in just 20 cards.”

A standard Hyakunin Isshu set has 100 cards. Memorizing them all is an ordeal, and one game takes too long. But this 'Goshiki Hyakunin Isshu' has the cards divided into sets of 20 by color. The rules are simple: a one-on-one match. Each person has 10 cards in their territory. If you take your opponent's card, you send one of your own over. If your territory becomes empty, you win.
With 20 cards, the game takes only a few minutes. And above all, it gives the children the feeling that 'maybe even I can memorize this.'

At the end of October, with the lingering excitement of the school festival, the 'morning revolution' in Class 1-B began. A male student who was reluctant at first came to school the day after being soundly defeated by a female student with a look of fierce determination in his eyes. “Damn it, I’m definitely going to get that card next time!” he said, glaring at a Hyakunin Isshu memorization chart instead of his textbook during break. There is no relationship between physical strength and gender here. All that exists is the amount of effort put in and a moment of concentration.

The atmosphere in the classroom changed completely. “'Akino'… Now!” *Snap!* A dry sound echoed through the classroom. A battle lasting only three minutes. The sluggish morning air vanished, and the heat of a serious competition began to swirl there.

The year turned, and it was January. The school’s traditional event, the 'School-wide Hyakunin Isshu Tournament,' was approaching. Each class would select two teams of three and two representatives for the individual matches. Moreover, this tournament had no grade-level divisions. It was an open-weight tournament where first-years through third-years were all mixed together.

I was a little anxious. In class, we had only worked on the 'blue' and 'yellow' sets out of the five colors. We had effectively only touched 40 out of the 100 cards. “If they face third-years, it’ll be tough, won't it…” I thought weakly while looking at the bracket in the staff room. But I would soon realize that I had underestimated my students.

On the day of the tournament, the gymnasium was wrapped in an unusual tension. The Class 1-B representative team faced off against the third-year team, the favorites to win. They were seniors who were superior in both physique and knowledge. The reader began to recite the first part of the poem. “'Hisakata no'…”

That was the moment. “Now!” Lightning fast. The hand of the Class 1-B representative student had swiped the card in the third-years' territory. Long before the second part of the poem was read, the match was decided by the first few characters. “What…? Why are you so fast?” the third-year muttered in disbelief.

I trembled. Had they memorized all the remaining 60 cards during winter break? I had only taught them the 'fun' of it. But they had started running on their own in search of 'strength.' The gateway of Goshiki Hyakunin Isshu had ignited the competitive spirit sleeping within them. The confidence that started with just 20 cards had eventually turned into a weapon that could conquer all 100.

“Amazing, B-Class!” Cheers erupted from the first-years in the gallery. The winning streak didn't stop. In both team and individual matches, the first-years kept knocking down the upperclassmen one after another. They looked like a small revolutionary army. In their hands, Hyakunin Isshu was not an old-fashioned study, but shone with the brilliance of a highly thrilling e-sport.

And then, the final match. Sitting on the tatami mats in the center of the silent gymnasium were students from Class 1-B. In both the team and individual matches, the final card was 'B-Class vs. B-Class.' A total victory. By then, my guidance no longer mattered. They had used their own power to turn just 10 minutes in the morning into a moment of glory they would never forget in their lives.

Watching their proud faces lined up at the awards ceremony, I thought: one must not place limits on the potential of children.

This story is a work of fiction based on true events.
※The names of people and organizations such as school names appearing in this story are all pseudonyms.